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Mason said, “Now this is terribly important. Where were you?”

“You mean while Aunt Adelle went back upstairs?”

“Yes.”

“In the lobby.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Not outside, where any person who had been shadowing you could have seen you?”

“No. I waited inside the lobby reading a racing form sheet.”

“How long was she gone?”

“Oh, just a few minutes.”

“Can you make a better estimate than that?”

“Well, perhaps five or six minutes.”

“But it couldn’t have taken so long as that for her just to go up to the apartment and back, could it?”

“It must have — there was no other place for her to go. Mr. Mason, what is the reason for all these questions?”

“Adelle Winters had a gun, and that gun killed Robert Hines.”

“What?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you certain?”

“Practically certain. The Ballistics Department hasn’t given its report yet, but the police found Mrs. Winters’s gun.”

“Where?”

“Where she had been seen to put it, in a garbage pail at the Lorenzo Hotel.”

“And you mean the bullet had been fired from that gun? Why, Mr. Mason, that’s utterly impossible!”

“Although Mrs. Winters had bought some fresh ammunition, she hadn’t as yet reloaded the gun. It was loaded with shells of an obsolete type, and the bullet was quite distinctive — it was exactly the same type that the police recovered from the skull of Robert Hines.”

“Why, that’s absolutely incredible!”

“All right, let’s see what Adelle Winters has to say. Let’s see what her story is about the gun. Did you believe her when she said she didn’t have a gun — that it was all a bluff?”

“No, I didn’t. That’s the funny thing about Aunt Adelle. You have to take some of the things that she says with a...  Well, it isn’t exactly that she wants to deceive you; it’s just — well, it’s hard to explain. You see, she’s been a practical nurse, and she’s nursed a lot of persons with incurable diseases. So she got into the way of lying, reassuring them, telling them they were going to get well. Or, if she was nursing someone who’d had a nervous breakdown, she’d lie to keep her patient from worrying, telling things that would help toward the sick person’s recovery. If you could only see Aunt Adelle in that light, you’d understand the whole thing.”

“In other words, she’s a liar!”

“If you want to put it bluntly, she is. She believes in avoiding trouble by detouring facts.”

“And you were sure she was lying about not having a gun?”

“I’d always felt she had a gun — yes.”

“And suppose she’s lying about what happened there in the apartment?”

“No, that wouldn’t be like Aunt Adelle at all. Can’t we go talk with her?”

“I’m afraid the police are waiting at her apartment.”

“We might drive there and find out.”

“It’s a waste of gasoline, but we’ve got to try it. You show me the way. The main thing, as I see it, is to get you in the clear.”

“How do you mean?”

“You told the police you had been with Adelle Winters ‘all the time.’ Now if her gun killed Robert Hines, you must have been with her when the shot was fired — and that has put you in quite a mess. The police are waiting out at your apartment. You’ll be charged as an accessory. I want to get you in the clear. Later we’ll see what can be done for Aunt Adelle.”

“But we’ll first make certain that she isn’t at her apartment?”

“Exactly,” Mason said.

“How?”

“We’ll drive out there, then Cora can scout out the situation.”

“All right,” Eva said. “You drive straight down this street.”

Mason and the two girls drove to the place where Adelle Winters had her apartment, an unpretentious three-story brick building, a good thirty-five minutes by streetcar from the center of the city.

A knot of curious spectators milling around told the story even before Cora had slipped out to mingle unobtrusively with them and pick up the news. She was back within five minutes.

“They nabbed her?” Mason asked.

Cora nodded. “They picked her up just as she was entering the apartment. They shot a lot of questions at her and Adelle got confused. They showed her a gun and asked her if it was hers. She admitted it was. That’s all anybody knows. They put her in an automobile and drove away.”

Mason said, “Okay.” He turned to Eva. “I’m going to lead with my chin, Eva. I’m going to put you some place where the police can’t find you tonight, and then make a bargain with the D.A.’s office tomorrow.”

Eva Martell asked, “Why can’t I tell my story to the police right now?”

Mason shook his head. “I’ve got to get you a promise of immunity, and I won’t be in a good bargaining position unless I have something to bargain with.”

Chapter 9

Harry Gulling, who was considered the wheel-horse of the district attorney’s office, was rarely seen in court; only occasionally did his name appear in the public press. But those who were on the inside knew that Hamilton Berger, the district attorney, relied on Gulling to make important decisions. Those who knew the ropes would never think of trying to make a deal with Hamilton Berger until they had first seen Harry Gulling and obtained a clearance through him.

It was nine-forty-five in the morning when Mason was ushered into Gulling’s office. Mason shook hands, sat down opposite Gulling — he was a tall, thin man who had a trick of holding people with an unwinking stare from cold blue eyes — and said, “I’m representing Eva Martell. She was living in Helen Reedley’s apartment with a woman named Adelle Winters. I believe you’re holding the Winters woman on suspicion of murder.”

Harry Gulling remained motionless, his glacial blue eyes framing pinpoint pupils as he listened. Now he said nothing, but just waited for Mason to go on.

“I think my client can be of some help to you,” Mason said.

“How?”

“Well, perhaps — and mind you I’m only saying perhaps — her testimony might be of some assistance.”

“What?”

“Suppose that after thinking back over the events of yesterday she remembered that she had not been with Adelle Winters all the time. I assume you’re familiar with the case?”

“I’ve just finished questioning Mrs. Winters,” Gulling said, “and here on my desk are the police reports.”

“Very well. Then we’re in a position to talk turkey. Eva Martell is a young woman who is trying to get by — playing parts here and there, sometimes as an extra, and by serving as a model. She’s never had any experience before with this sort of thing. Adelle Winters, who’s an old friend of Eva’s family, is apparently something of a character. Whether or not she’s guilty of murder is a matter for you to determine. But you have the murder weapon, and I understand you have identified it as belonging to Adelle Winters. In view of the statement given you yesterday by Eva Martell, you could hardly expect to get a conviction, because you simply can’t show that Adelle Winters had any chance to commit the murder.

“Now I’m frank to admit that my client ought to have searched her recollection a little more thoroughly. Perhaps she was trying to protect Adelle Winters. Perhaps she was confused. But let’s say that in the excitement of the day’s events she neglected to tell you of a time when Adelle Winters was not with her. Then what?”

Gulling kept his eyes on Mason’s face. “Where is your client now?”